The Rendezvous
by sondragonfly
Summary: “You worry too much. Trust me. You're not going to regret this.” While Sydney's at work, Vaughn decides if he's doing the right thing. Set during Season 4. Rated for language.


**Disclaimer:** Don't own 'em, but if I did--with the way Season 5 is going--heads would be rolling.

**A/N:** I got the idea for this story during the premier of S.5. The idea made me grin, so of course I had to write about it. Oh, and by the way, I don't care what anyone says: _**VAUGHN LIVES**_.

. : sondragonfly : .

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**. : The Rendezvous : .**

"Now that we're here, I'm starting to think this isn't a good idea."

"You worry too much. Trust me. You're _not_ going to regret this."

"But Sydney—"

"Is at work, remember? She won't be home for _hours_…"

"_Still_. Maybe we shouldn't do this here. I mean, it's our _house_ damn it. I always have the feeling she'll walk in at any moment, even when I'm not doing something… well, I like this. I don't know how I could explain—"

"Would you listen to yourself? I wonder how she puts up with this every single night."

_Pause._ "Maybe you should just leave now."

"I'm joking! C'mon, no need to be so touchy. All right, I don't know how to segue into this… can't we just start now?"

"I don't know…"

"Yes, you do. I see it in your eyes. Here, I'll hit the lights, you get the music."

"_The lights?"_

"You know, to set the mood. Maybe light a few candles."

"We don't need to set the mood."

"Of course we need to set the mood! You want to do this right, don't you? The mood is the most important part—"

"_I said no!_ We're already doing this at my house—Sydney's and my house! _We are not setting the fucking mood!"_

"Fine, fine! Sheesh… At least get the music. I can't do this without music."

"Alright, but that's it. Just the music."

"Okay… yeah, this song. This is nice."

"…"

"We can't do anything with you standing all the way over there."

"Sorry, but I haven't done anything like this before. And with _you_…"

"Better me than someone you don't know, I think. Like those paid professionals. They never give you enough of their time. Besides, you think it'd be easier to explain if Sydney walked in and you were with someone else?"

"Well, that's a good point."

"Of course it is. Now come here."

"Alright…"

"Closer…"

"…"

"Closer…"

"What?"

"_Closer!_ We need to be _touching!_ Haven't you ever done this before?"

"Of course I have! It's just… It was different."

"You need to trust me."

"I do."

"Then you have to let me touch you."

"There isn't some way where we don't…?"

"No."

_A sigh._ "Fine then."

"Now you put your hand here."

"Here?"

"Higher. Okay, there. Now, what you do is—are you shaking?"

"I'm nervous, okay?"

"Aw, Mikey, I didn't know you cared."

"Shut up right now, or I'm ending this."

"Okay, shutting up. There's really nothing to be nervous about. You need to relax."

"Relaxing is a difficult action to achieve right now."

"What are you afraid of? What we're doing, or Sydney finding out?"

"Sydney _can't_ find out about this."

"And she won't."

"If she does, it'll ruin everything. I mean, hell, the _wedding_—"

"Nothing is going to go wrong. And the likelihood of nothing going wrong improves if we stop talking and just get this over and done with."

"Okay, okay. Just tell me what to do."

"You have to hold me tighter. Your arms are so flimsy…. There. That's much better."

"Is this right?"

"Yeah, perfect. Now just listen to the music—_who the hell—?"_

"_Oh my God."_

"Vaughn…Weiss."

"Mr. Bristow, this isn't what it looks like—"

"Jack, I can explain everything—"

"There's no need to explain anything, Vaughn. I understand perfectly what's going on. Before my own wedding, I felt the need to do the exact same thing… not with my best friend though."

"Oh… good, then."

"And I presume you don't wish me to inform my daughter of this little…arrangement?"

"Well, no, I'd prefer to keep it a secret. I'll tell her eventually, of course. I mean, show her."

"Err…good luck with that, then. I'm sure the Sydney will be very surprised when you show her. Very surprised indeed."

"I hope so. I'm doing this for her."

"Undoubtedly. One usually doesn't find men locked in an embrace for trivial reasons. Well, these are some reports that Sydney wanted. I'll just put them over here. Please continue with whatever it was you two were doing."

"God, sometimes I hate that man."

"Okay, let's just focus, here, hmm? C'mon, back into position. Just pretend I'm Sydney."

"You have no idea how difficult that is for me right now."

"Damn it, Mike. Is she worth it or not?"

"What?"

"Is Sydney worth all this or not? Just answer the question, you stupid ass."

"Of course she's worth it. She's worth more than the world…"

"Good. Then come here and hold me. This hand goes on my waist here. And you hold this hand in yours like this… I don't understand why you find this concept so difficult."

"_I know!_ I'm a high ranking operative in an underground black-ops division of the CIA, and I can't even do _this!"_

"Don't worry, man. That's why I'm here. But the first step is to admit you have a problem."

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

"No. Just do it, Mike."

"…"

"Fine, you know what? If you're not going to take this seriously and _admit_ that you have a problem you can just stand there like an ass all by yourself and learn how to do it yourself."

"Eric—_damn it_—wait." _A sigh._ "Fine…fine. I have a problem."

"And…?"

"And… I don't know how to dance."

"Much better. Thank you, Michael, I appreciate your honesty. Now, come here. You're going to pretend I'm Sydney, and we're in the middle of the dance floor and everyone is looking at us. It's the first dance of the night, and we have to be perfect."

"Well, here goes nothing…"

"Okay. Now with the music. One-two-three, step-two-three, again-two-three…"

**. : Fin. : .**

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End file.
